


Penance

by maximumsuckage



Category: Original Work
Genre: Catholic Guilt, Christianity, Confessions, F/M, Priests, Religion, Roman Catholicism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 19:14:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14171658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maximumsuckage/pseuds/maximumsuckage
Summary: A priest hears a confession.





	Penance

**Author's Note:**

> Written March '17, edited just now because I was bored.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”  He took his seat on the bench, clasping his hands together in his lap to keep them from shaking.  “It has been…”  He let out an anxious little laugh.  “Actually, I don’t know how many days it has been since my last confession.  I don’t think I’ve ever gone to Confession.  I’ve never… I’ve never really had to, before.”

In the chair across from him, Father Solomon gently studied the man.  “Calm down, my son.  There is no judgement here.  Only God’s forgiveness.”

He took a deep breath.  “I’m not sure if forgiveness is an option here…”

“Let’s leave that in God’s hands.”  The priest leaned across the small space between him to clasp the young man’s hands.  “Why don’t you tell me what has caused this guilt, before it eats you alive?”

There was silence for a few minutes, except for slightly uneven breathing as he tried to gather his thoughts.  Father Solomon waited, one thumb rubbing circles on the youth’s hand.

“I met somebody.” 

The priest nodded slowly, trying to glean the man’s thoughts, but there was nothing visible in his expression except for general anxiety.  He had heard this line of guilt from others before.  “And you are afraid that your family will not approve?  Is it a man, my son?  Or a woman of differing faith?”

He laughed at that, a harsh sound.  “Nothing, nothing like that.  Well, sort of like that, I guess.  My… family would definitely not approve of her.  Or anybody.  They don’t approve of anybody in general.  Of any… feeling, in general, I guess.  I didn’t think it would be an issue… she was- she is fun.  Light.  When I’m with her, it’s like there’s no pressure anymore, like the world’s been lifted off my shoulders…Like what paradise should have been…”

“I think,” the priest said slowly, choosing his words with care, “that if your family truly cares about you, they would be able to see how happy this woman makes you, and that would make them happy for you.”

“She’s pregnant,” he blurted, and then bit his lip.  It seemed, the priest thought, that the young man had surprised himself by saying it out loud, like he had never admitted the truth of the matter to himself before.  Now he understood.  A child out of wedlock, while not the most mortal of sins, still had the power to rip families apart if they could not find it in their hearts to forgive and love each other. 

“Children aren’t an option in my… line of work,” he continued.  He was studying a point on the wall behind the priest’s head, focusing on the empty wall rather than the priest’s gaze.  “My brother had a daughter, once, and she was… she was evil.  That sounds dramatic, but it’s the truth.”  There was no expression on his face, but he shuddered.  “And her son in turn, he… he’s the stuff of nightmares.  And we can’t stop them, no matter how hard we fight, and I’m afraid…”  He shook his head, biting his lip.  “It was peace before that.  Paradise, even.  But we lost that…”

This was suddenly taking a turn for the serious, but Father Solomon kept his face blank.  If he could grant forgiveness to murderers and rapists, no matter how it turned his own stomach, then he could listen and try to understand this youth’s difficult family situation.  “And, you, then, are afraid your own child might turn out to be as… difficult, as your niece and grand-nephew?” 

By the clenching of the man’s jaw, he knew he had hit at least part of the main problem, but he suspected that there was more.  “And, simultaneously, you fear that you will never have the support from your family in accepting this baby as your own, because of their own fears?”

Suddenly, the young man looked away from the spot on the wall, ducking his head so that the priest couldn’t see his face.  Even without seeing his eyes, Father Solomon could hear the muffled hitch in his breath.  To buy himself time to think, he reached out to lay one gnarled hand on the man’s shoulder, moving it in small, comforting circles. 

“In creating humanity, God also created such emotions as hate and fear,” he said, and he could feel the man tense under his hand, though he still hid his face.  “But He also created the more powerful force of Love, and that was His gift to the world.  I understand the difficulty of your situation, my son.  And I believe you already know the solution.  Don’t you?”

He was still silent, shivering, but a moment later, he nodded.

“That child needs you,” the priest said, moving from his side of the room to kneel before the man.  Gently, Father Solomon tilted his chin so that they were making eye contact, and brushed away a tear with his thumb.  “And if your family cannot see that, then they have given into fear.  You must rise above that, for the sake of your child.  Do you understand?” 

He nodded again, his breath hitching.  “I… I have to leave.  My family.  I have to leave them.” 

“If that is what is best for the child.”  Father Solomon hesitated, and then pulled the man closer into a gentle hug.  “God is more forgiving than you believe.  And the new life you have brought into this world is more important than old fears.  Do not despair, my son.”

For a few minutes, there was silence as the priest held the man, pretending that he didn’t notice the tears or the shaking.  A few minutes later, there was a shuddering breath.  “So, do I say a prayer now, or…?”

The priest laughed, pulling away from the man and pretending he didn’t notice the damp marks on his robe.  “Your penance will be ten Hail Mary’s for the premarital sex, and being the father your child deserves.” 

He nodded, and got up stiffly to open the door to the rest of the church. 

It was an odd angle, the priest thought, where the stained glass representation of Gabriel on the other side of the nave lined up with the man’s silhouette so that sunlit wings seemed to spread from his shoulders.  “Thank you,” the youth said, and then hesitated like he meant to say something else. 

But, silent, he left, and it was like he had never been there at all.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a billion short stories on my computer so I'm slowly editing them and throwing them online because that's more interesting than just rotting in the short story folder on my desktop. I'm sure there's better sites for original junk but it's easier to put it all in one place. Tho can't really say this one's original, since basically it's a fanfic of a fanfic of a fanfic.


End file.
